I am so sorry, Abigal. It is very difficult to lose a dear friend after so many years.
It takes courage to make a decision to end the suffering of your beloved pet. My heart and prayers are with you and your family through this time of grieving.
Scrappy was part of Abi's family before I got here. Nonetheless, I am gratified to have had him be a part of my life.
My Eulogy
Today was Scrappy's last visit to the veterinarian.
Scrappy is our oldest dog. He's an Australian Shepherd/Great Dane mix and, arguably, the most pathetic looking dog ever sired. You look up pathetic in the dictionary, and there will be a picture of him.
When he was younger, I've been told he was a real terror. Eating couches and the like. Now, he's the senior citizen of our pack, about a hundred years old in human terms. His hearing is getting worse by the day and his sight is probably not far behind. Even though he's the elder statesmen of our little pack, he doesn't get the respect he deserves. He's usually under foot, just wanting a little attention, to get a little reminder that we still love him even though he's not the strong, independent dog he was in his younger days.
Recently, he mostly laid around the house, getting up occasionally to go to the bathroom and eat. Thankfully, he makes it outside to eliminate. From time to time, he managed to go outside and bark at a few things only he can see. Sometimes he even played with our other two dogs, but this consisted mostly of barking at them while they're playing.
I'm fairly certain this was annoying to him because I suspect, should I get to be his age, I will also be annoyed at not being able to do the things I used to. I like to consider myself an independent, strong, individual.
Lately, though, he got a little too good at 'playing dead'. Every time I came home from work, or have been out of the house for a while, one of the first things I would check to see if he's still breathing. Sometimes, I would put a mirror by his nose.
I started getting kind of annoyed at Scrappy. I know I shouldn't have, since his only crime was getting old. I look at him, and it seems like he was miserable most of the time. I'm willing to admit I'm doing a bit of anthropomorphizing. Maybe I'm trying to relieve my guilt at the prospect of witnessing him being put down.
Whenever we would go away for even a couple of days, he didn't do too well. He would refuse to eat. Everyday, when I came home, I would do the breathing check. I would always be amazed when he showed up at the door upon my entering the house. When he didn't, I would go check on him.
I wonder if our other two dogs are going to miss him. We also have a Siberian husky and a Jack Russel/Beagle mix dog. Nikki is the husky and Buster is the Jack Russel mix.
It's tough watching someone/thing you love deteriorate. You want them to be the way you remember them. You want them to be young and full of life. But such is not always our lot in life.
This lead to at least a modicum of resentment. I resented he was still around. I wished he would just not wake up one day. I know this is a selfish way of looking at it and I'm ashamed.
The toughest thing to handle will be with the kids. He was the dog of the household since before they were born. His passing will be the first real experience with death they will have deal with, up close and personal. The kids have had other pets who have died, but those have been either birds, tree frogs, fish, etc., not 'real' pets.
It will be tough for me since I don't have any solid beliefs as to what happens when people or things die. I like to think there's an eternal resting place where the righteous and animals go when they die, but since I really don't know, I don't know what to say to the kids when the inevitable happened. Maybe I'll go rent "All Dogs Go To Heaven".
Today was Scrappy's last visit to the vet. The vet is going to give him a shot, one he won't wake up from. Scrappy was one of the first patients for this vet, and I'm sure it will be just as tough on him as it will be for us. I hope it's an overdose of happy medicine, because Scrappy deserves it.
One of the ironic things about today was, it was the first time in the five years I've been here, I saw all the kids petting him, saying goodbye. I don't think they fully understand he's not coming back when he leaves their sight this afternoon. It's tragic when we don't make the time to fully appreciate the people/things around us. It's also heart rending to think it takes an event of this magnitude to wake us up to this cold, even brutal truth.
I'm writing this upstairs, in order to avoid looking at Scrappy. I kind of hope he doesn't know what's coming, but perhaps he does, and is thankful for us being able to let him go. If he does know, I hope he's able to forgive us for what we did today. He will never be forgotten as long as we live.
If there's such a thing as spirit, his will be haunting us for a long time. I'm sure there will be more than a few times I'll hear his bark, or see him out of a corner of my eye. And even though he wasn't technically my dog, I considered him as mine. He was one of the finest dogs I've ever known.
[written at approximately 7 pm]
I've just gotten back from the vet, because apparently you have to pay them for their service, if you want to call it that. I asked them if I could say goodbye, and they said of course. It took about ten minutes for them to be able to comply with my request. I was getting angrier by the second, because it seemed it was taking forever.
When they let me know I could pay my respects, I went into the room. Scrappy was wrapped in a blanket, prepared for the long cold night ahead. I hope they don't take it away from him when/if theybury him. But they probably will.
I told him what a good dog he was, how much we're going to miss him. That the kids probably aren't going to fully realize what happened for a few days. But when they do, they're probably going to be inconsolable. When they do ask, I guess I'll tell them he's in a much better place, where he doesn't feel any more pain, can run and jump like he used to when he was younger. I hope there is such a place for all of us.
I am crying, knowing how you feel.... we lost our *Chance* sometime during the night as well.
Wouldn`t it be nice to think of those two old boys making the journey together to that *other* place?
I know that your scrappy was special, being dane, he would be gentle and kind, being australian shepherd he would be intellegent and lively.....bothe breeds are incredibly loving and loyal....what a fantastic combination.
When you bring a pet into your life, you begin a journey. A journey that will bring you more love and devotion than you have ever known, yet will also test your strength and courage. If you allow, the journey will teach you many things, about life, about yourself, and most of all, about love. You will come away changed forever, for one soul cannot touch another without leaving its mark.
Along the way, you will learn much about savoring life's simple pleasures -- jumping in leaves, snoozing in the sun, the joys of puddles, and even the satisfaction of a good scratch behind the ears. If you spend much time outside, you will be taught how to truly experience every element, for no rock, leaf, or log will go unexamined, no rustling bush will be overlooked, and even the very air will be inhaled, pondered, and noted as being full of valuable information.
Your pace may be slower, except when heading home to the food dish, but you will become a better naturalist, having been taught by an expert in the field. Too many times we hike on automatic pilot, our goal being to complete the trail rather than enjoy the journey. We miss the details: the colorful mushrooms on the rotting log, the honeycomb in the old maple snag, the hawk feather caught on a twig.
Once we walk as a dog does, we discover a whole new world. We stop; we browse the landscape, we kick over leaves, peek in tree holes, look up, down, all around. And we learn what any dog knows that nature has created a marvelously complex world that is full of surprises, that each cycle of the seasons bring ever changing wonders, each day an essence all its own.
Even from indoors you will find yourself more attuned to the world around you. You will find yourself watching: summer insects collecting on a screen; 0 h, and how bizarre they are; how many kinds there are or noting the flick and flash of fireflies through the dark. You will stop to observe the swirling dance of windblown leaves, or sniff the air after a rain. It does not matter that there is no objective in this; the point is in the doing, in not letting life's most important details slip by.
You will find yourself doing silly things that your pet-less friends might not understand: spending thirty minutes in the grocery aisle looking for the cat food brand your feline must have, buying dog birthday treats, or driving around the block an extra time because your pet enjoys the ride. You will roll in the snow, wrestle with chewie toys, bounce little rubber balls till your eyes cross, and even run around the house trailing your bathrobe tie with a cat in hot pursuit, all in the name of love.
Your house will become muddier and hairier. You will wear less dark clothing and buy more lint rollers. You may find dog biscuits in your pocket or purse, and feel the need to explain that an old plastic shopping bag adorns your living room rug because your cat loves the crinkly sound. You will learn the true measure of love. The steadfast, undying kind that says, "It doesn't matter where we are or what we do, or how life treats us as long as we are together."
Respect this always. It is the most precious gift any living soul can give another. You will not find it often among the human race. And you will learn humility. The look in my dog's eyes often made me feel ashamed. Such joy and love at my presence. She saw not some flawed human who could be cross and stubborn, moody or rude, but only her wonderful companion. Or maybe she saw those things and dismissed them as mere human foibles, not worth considering, and so chose to love me anyway.
If you pay attention and learn well, when the journey is done, you will be not just a better person, but the person your pet always knew you to be. The one they were proud to call beloved friend.
I must caution you that this journey is not without pain. Like all paths of true love, the pain is part of loving. For as surely as the sun sets, one day your dear animal companion will follow a trail you cannot yet go down. And you will have to find the strength and love to let them go.
A pet's time on earth is far too short, especially for those that love them. We borrow them, really, just for a while, and during these brief years they are generous enough to give us all their love, every inch of their spirit and heart, until one day there is nothing left. The cat that only yesterday was a kitten is all too soon old and frail and sleeping in the sun. The young pup of boundless energy now wakes up stiff and lame, the muzzle gone to gray.
Deep down we somehow always knew that this journey would end. We knew that if we gave our hearts they would be broken. But give them we must for it is all they ask in return. When the time comes, and the road curves ahead to a place we cannot see, we give one final gift and let them run on ahead, young and whole once more. "God speed, good friend," we say, until our journey comes full circle and our paths cross again.
Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements, and I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth... though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted worshipper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger.
And, beloved master, should the Great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest... and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.
Thank you, everyone, for your kind words. So far, I think the kids are taking it better than Sushi and I, but they don't remember much of Scrappy's younger healthier days when they could climb all over him and play fetch with him. Nicki, our Husky, seems mostly oblivious to his absence as well. But then, she has the personality of a cat and is very aloof.
Buster, on the other hand, is taking it hard. Buster was Scrappy's caretaker in this past year. If Scrappy needed to go out in the middle of the night, it was Buster who would climb the stairs and wake me. If Scrappy wanted back in, it was Buster who would bark for us to let him in. For the past two days, Buster has been significantly less playful, it seems as if he is just watching and waiting for Scrappy to come home.
Yesterday, after lunch, when I went to bring him back in so I could return to work, his whole body started shivering, as if he didn't want to come back in until Scrappy came home.
I used to get annoyed at tripping over Scrappy everytime I turned around. Now I miss it. Time will lesson the pain of his absence, I know. But for now, I am not ready to let go of that, I hold it in honor of what an incredible part of our family Scrappy was.
Recommended Posts
T-Bone
Sorry to hear about Scrappy - what a gorgeous creature and gentle soul.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
dmiller
Abi -- so sorry to hear that. :( :(
Condolences.
David
Link to comment
Share on other sites
topoftheworld
I am so sorry, Abigal. It is very difficult to lose a dear friend after so many years.
It takes courage to make a decision to end the suffering of your beloved pet. My heart and prayers are with you and your family through this time of grieving.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Sushi
Scrappy was part of Abi's family before I got here. Nonetheless, I am gratified to have had him be a part of my life.
My Eulogy
Today was Scrappy's last visit to the veterinarian.
Scrappy is our oldest dog. He's an Australian Shepherd/Great Dane mix and, arguably, the most pathetic looking dog ever sired. You look up pathetic in the dictionary, and there will be a picture of him.
When he was younger, I've been told he was a real terror. Eating couches and the like. Now, he's the senior citizen of our pack, about a hundred years old in human terms. His hearing is getting worse by the day and his sight is probably not far behind. Even though he's the elder statesmen of our little pack, he doesn't get the respect he deserves. He's usually under foot, just wanting a little attention, to get a little reminder that we still love him even though he's not the strong, independent dog he was in his younger days.
Recently, he mostly laid around the house, getting up occasionally to go to the bathroom and eat. Thankfully, he makes it outside to eliminate. From time to time, he managed to go outside and bark at a few things only he can see. Sometimes he even played with our other two dogs, but this consisted mostly of barking at them while they're playing.
I'm fairly certain this was annoying to him because I suspect, should I get to be his age, I will also be annoyed at not being able to do the things I used to. I like to consider myself an independent, strong, individual.
Lately, though, he got a little too good at 'playing dead'. Every time I came home from work, or have been out of the house for a while, one of the first things I would check to see if he's still breathing. Sometimes, I would put a mirror by his nose.
I started getting kind of annoyed at Scrappy. I know I shouldn't have, since his only crime was getting old. I look at him, and it seems like he was miserable most of the time. I'm willing to admit I'm doing a bit of anthropomorphizing. Maybe I'm trying to relieve my guilt at the prospect of witnessing him being put down.
Whenever we would go away for even a couple of days, he didn't do too well. He would refuse to eat. Everyday, when I came home, I would do the breathing check. I would always be amazed when he showed up at the door upon my entering the house. When he didn't, I would go check on him.
I wonder if our other two dogs are going to miss him. We also have a Siberian husky and a Jack Russel/Beagle mix dog. Nikki is the husky and Buster is the Jack Russel mix.
It's tough watching someone/thing you love deteriorate. You want them to be the way you remember them. You want them to be young and full of life. But such is not always our lot in life.
This lead to at least a modicum of resentment. I resented he was still around. I wished he would just not wake up one day. I know this is a selfish way of looking at it and I'm ashamed.
The toughest thing to handle will be with the kids. He was the dog of the household since before they were born. His passing will be the first real experience with death they will have deal with, up close and personal. The kids have had other pets who have died, but those have been either birds, tree frogs, fish, etc., not 'real' pets.
It will be tough for me since I don't have any solid beliefs as to what happens when people or things die. I like to think there's an eternal resting place where the righteous and animals go when they die, but since I really don't know, I don't know what to say to the kids when the inevitable happened. Maybe I'll go rent "All Dogs Go To Heaven".
Today was Scrappy's last visit to the vet. The vet is going to give him a shot, one he won't wake up from. Scrappy was one of the first patients for this vet, and I'm sure it will be just as tough on him as it will be for us. I hope it's an overdose of happy medicine, because Scrappy deserves it.
One of the ironic things about today was, it was the first time in the five years I've been here, I saw all the kids petting him, saying goodbye. I don't think they fully understand he's not coming back when he leaves their sight this afternoon. It's tragic when we don't make the time to fully appreciate the people/things around us. It's also heart rending to think it takes an event of this magnitude to wake us up to this cold, even brutal truth.
I'm writing this upstairs, in order to avoid looking at Scrappy. I kind of hope he doesn't know what's coming, but perhaps he does, and is thankful for us being able to let him go. If he does know, I hope he's able to forgive us for what we did today. He will never be forgotten as long as we live.
If there's such a thing as spirit, his will be haunting us for a long time. I'm sure there will be more than a few times I'll hear his bark, or see him out of a corner of my eye. And even though he wasn't technically my dog, I considered him as mine. He was one of the finest dogs I've ever known.
[written at approximately 7 pm]
I've just gotten back from the vet, because apparently you have to pay them for their service, if you want to call it that. I asked them if I could say goodbye, and they said of course. It took about ten minutes for them to be able to comply with my request. I was getting angrier by the second, because it seemed it was taking forever.
When they let me know I could pay my respects, I went into the room. Scrappy was wrapped in a blanket, prepared for the long cold night ahead. I hope they don't take it away from him when/if theybury him. But they probably will.
I told him what a good dog he was, how much we're going to miss him. That the kids probably aren't going to fully realize what happened for a few days. But when they do, they're probably going to be inconsolable. When they do ask, I guess I'll tell them he's in a much better place, where he doesn't feel any more pain, can run and jump like he used to when he was younger. I hope there is such a place for all of us.
Edited by SushiLink to comment
Share on other sites
excathedra
he's in doggie heaven
Link to comment
Share on other sites
ChattyKathy
Why not excath!
And with him is all the love there could ever be being sent his way.
I know he has mine now.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Kit Sober
I know (IMHO) dogs (and other creatures) will be in heaven
(1) Dogs are care-ful and loving from their freewill -- This is not a forced thing.
(2) Heaven would be too empty without them.
Looking forward to meeting Scrappy in our home beyond the sky.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Linda Z
Abi, Sushi, and boys, I'm so sorry. I know how hard it is to make the decision you made, but I'm glad you did, and I'll bet Scrappy was, too.
RIP Scrappy, you beautiful boy.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
I Love Bagpipes
Beautiful Eulogy...so honest and heart felt.
Thoughts and prayers are with you and the kids too.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
dmiller
(click the rainbow).
Edited by dmillerLink to comment
Share on other sites
bowtwi
I'm sorry for your loss.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
rascal
Abby, Sushi, and boys :( I am so sorry.
I am crying, knowing how you feel.... we lost our *Chance* sometime during the night as well.
Wouldn`t it be nice to think of those two old boys making the journey together to that *other* place?
I know that your scrappy was special, being dane, he would be gentle and kind, being australian shepherd he would be intellegent and lively.....bothe breeds are incredibly loving and loyal....what a fantastic combination.
Cathy
Link to comment
Share on other sites
WhiteDove
For Chance and Scrappy:
The Journey
When you bring a pet into your life, you begin a journey. A journey that will bring you more love and devotion than you have ever known, yet will also test your strength and courage. If you allow, the journey will teach you many things, about life, about yourself, and most of all, about love. You will come away changed forever, for one soul cannot touch another without leaving its mark.
Along the way, you will learn much about savoring life's simple pleasures -- jumping in leaves, snoozing in the sun, the joys of puddles, and even the satisfaction of a good scratch behind the ears. If you spend much time outside, you will be taught how to truly experience every element, for no rock, leaf, or log will go unexamined, no rustling bush will be overlooked, and even the very air will be inhaled, pondered, and noted as being full of valuable information.
Your pace may be slower, except when heading home to the food dish, but you will become a better naturalist, having been taught by an expert in the field. Too many times we hike on automatic pilot, our goal being to complete the trail rather than enjoy the journey. We miss the details: the colorful mushrooms on the rotting log, the honeycomb in the old maple snag, the hawk feather caught on a twig.
Once we walk as a dog does, we discover a whole new world. We stop; we browse the landscape, we kick over leaves, peek in tree holes, look up, down, all around. And we learn what any dog knows that nature has created a marvelously complex world that is full of surprises, that each cycle of the seasons bring ever changing wonders, each day an essence all its own.
Even from indoors you will find yourself more attuned to the world around you. You will find yourself watching: summer insects collecting on a screen; 0 h, and how bizarre they are; how many kinds there are or noting the flick and flash of fireflies through the dark. You will stop to observe the swirling dance of windblown leaves, or sniff the air after a rain. It does not matter that there is no objective in this; the point is in the doing, in not letting life's most important details slip by.
You will find yourself doing silly things that your pet-less friends might not understand: spending thirty minutes in the grocery aisle looking for the cat food brand your feline must have, buying dog birthday treats, or driving around the block an extra time because your pet enjoys the ride. You will roll in the snow, wrestle with chewie toys, bounce little rubber balls till your eyes cross, and even run around the house trailing your bathrobe tie with a cat in hot pursuit, all in the name of love.
Your house will become muddier and hairier. You will wear less dark clothing and buy more lint rollers. You may find dog biscuits in your pocket or purse, and feel the need to explain that an old plastic shopping bag adorns your living room rug because your cat loves the crinkly sound. You will learn the true measure of love. The steadfast, undying kind that says, "It doesn't matter where we are or what we do, or how life treats us as long as we are together."
Respect this always. It is the most precious gift any living soul can give another. You will not find it often among the human race. And you will learn humility. The look in my dog's eyes often made me feel ashamed. Such joy and love at my presence. She saw not some flawed human who could be cross and stubborn, moody or rude, but only her wonderful companion. Or maybe she saw those things and dismissed them as mere human foibles, not worth considering, and so chose to love me anyway.
If you pay attention and learn well, when the journey is done, you will be not just a better person, but the person your pet always knew you to be. The one they were proud to call beloved friend.
I must caution you that this journey is not without pain. Like all paths of true love, the pain is part of loving. For as surely as the sun sets, one day your dear animal companion will follow a trail you cannot yet go down. And you will have to find the strength and love to let them go.
A pet's time on earth is far too short, especially for those that love them. We borrow them, really, just for a while, and during these brief years they are generous enough to give us all their love, every inch of their spirit and heart, until one day there is nothing left. The cat that only yesterday was a kitten is all too soon old and frail and sleeping in the sun. The young pup of boundless energy now wakes up stiff and lame, the muzzle gone to gray.
Deep down we somehow always knew that this journey would end. We knew that if we gave our hearts they would be broken. But give them we must for it is all they ask in return. When the time comes, and the road curves ahead to a place we cannot see, we give one final gift and let them run on ahead, young and whole once more. "God speed, good friend," we say, until our journey comes full circle and our paths cross again.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Sushi
A DOG'S PRAYER
Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements, and I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth... though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted worshipper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger.
And, beloved master, should the Great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest... and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
oldiesman
So sorry to hear about Scrappy. :(
During my riding journeys, I also feel bad for all the dead animals on the roadside. Gets me sick.
God bless Scrappy.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
coolchef1248 @adelphia.net
i am so sorry for you all
Link to comment
Share on other sites
SafariVista
Hugs to Abi, Sushi & your boys... how very sad
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Abigail
Thank you, everyone, for your kind words. So far, I think the kids are taking it better than Sushi and I, but they don't remember much of Scrappy's younger healthier days when they could climb all over him and play fetch with him. Nicki, our Husky, seems mostly oblivious to his absence as well. But then, she has the personality of a cat and is very aloof.
Buster, on the other hand, is taking it hard. Buster was Scrappy's caretaker in this past year. If Scrappy needed to go out in the middle of the night, it was Buster who would climb the stairs and wake me. If Scrappy wanted back in, it was Buster who would bark for us to let him in. For the past two days, Buster has been significantly less playful, it seems as if he is just watching and waiting for Scrappy to come home.
Yesterday, after lunch, when I went to bring him back in so I could return to work, his whole body started shivering, as if he didn't want to come back in until Scrappy came home.
I used to get annoyed at tripping over Scrappy everytime I turned around. Now I miss it. Time will lesson the pain of his absence, I know. But for now, I am not ready to let go of that, I hold it in honor of what an incredible part of our family Scrappy was.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Zshot
I am sorry for your loss.
I am sure that Scrappy knew that he was loved.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Linda Z
Aw, Abi, that's so sweet about Buster taking care of Scrappy. Bless his little furry self.
I know how hard it is. It will pass, but I don't think we ever stop missing our little friends completely.
Link to comment
Share on other sites
topoftheworld
(((Buster)))
Link to comment
Share on other sites
excathedra
can you show buster where scrappy is buried ? this helps sometimes
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Oakspear
Scrappy was a cool dog. Among the few who I have allowed to lick my face! (when i was sleeping on Abi & Sushi's floor!)
Link to comment
Share on other sites
SafariVista
Scrappy had incredibly soft fur...
Link to comment
Share on other sites
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.